


The Cost of Peace

by DeathByVerbicide



Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 22:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10930908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByVerbicide/pseuds/DeathByVerbicide
Summary: Morgana is determined to see Gwen sent to prison, accusing her of stealing a family heirloom. While the guards are searching for Gwen under the orders of King Uther, Arthur finds her and tells her one of his favorite childhood stories.





	The Cost of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written for Merlin before, haha. But it's my favorite show of all time, and a fic was in order. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Gwen barged into a dark abandoned cellar, exhausted and infuriated. She growled in frustration as she punched her fist into a sack of flour, before putting her hand to her sweaty forehead.

The Lady Morgana was… There were no words to describe her.

Ever since she'd returned from where she had disappeared, she was acting rather cunning. She was no longer the carefree, kind-hearted princess who was Gwen's best friend. Now, she seemed to want nothing more than to look down upon her maidservant.

Gwen choked back tears as she leaned against the wall and lowered herself onto the floor with her knees pulled to her chest.

She didn't steal the amulet.

Truth be told, Gwen saw no difference in the value between gold and steel, or even dirt.

She'd never stolen anything in her life - but when Morgana arrived at the night's festival in her silk blue dress, her hair carefully styled high, and her neck bare, Uther had asked why she wasn't wearing the necklace he had gifted to her, an amulet of gold, encrusted with dozens of heavy sapphires and priceless emeralds.

Morgana simply smirked, and before Gwen could've foreseen it, disbelief had erupted through the crowd, and dozens of people were staring back at her in astonishment, including Prince Arthur and her friend, Merlin.

Gwen was the only person allowed in Morgana's chambers, Morgana stated with a victorious lilt to her voice. She was the only person who knew where Morgana kept her precious jewelry. It's alright if Gwen felt like playing with her trinkets, Morgana continued in false sympathy, but Gwen could've at least told her beforehand-

A woman shrieked "thief!", and the royal guards soon lined Gwen's vision. Arthur tried grabbing her wrist to keep her from running, Uther harshly barked an order, and Merlin shouted a protest - but Gwen only ran as the guards began towards her.

She was much more nimble on her feet as they were in their clumpy metal armor and their bulky weapons, but even the prince and Merlin couldn't find her as she wove her way through the castle's interior, panting and panicked as fearful thoughts filled her mind - and now she was hiding in the basement, of all places.

She only had a few moments before they would find her, and Gwen would be put on trial with no evidence to support her innocence.

"Guinevere?" Arthur called out cautiously, searching outside the cellar walls.

Oh, god.

Did Arthur Pendragon believe Morgana?

He would believe his family before he'd believe a servant girl, wouldn't he? Even if he'd kissed said servant girl in her home once? Even if the kiss had been soft, and felt genuine?

Gwen covered her face with her hands, but a few rays of light filled the cellar, and Arthur was looking over her in worry, holding the door open. "Well, there you are-" he assured himself, with a slight tone of disapproval.

"Close the door," Gwen whispered hastily, "Please."

Concerned, Arthur glanced around the hall before quietly shutting the door - but not before he entered the cellar.

Gwen watched in surprise as he smiled and sat down in front of her on the cold, musty floor, before he frowned as he looked around the tiny room. "Wow. I didn't realize our cellars would be so small. And cramped. Rather discomforting, isn't it?"

She smiled against her own will, but tilted her head back against the wall and sighed, unable to repress the tears stinging her eyes. "My lord. I didn't take her necklace-"

"It's not the first time Morgana's accused someone of stealing something of hers," Arthur coaxed, shifting so he was sitting beside her. He hesitated before touching Gwen's shoulder, an awkward but honest gesture of comfort. Gwen faced him nervously.

"When we were younger once," Arthur explained with a cheesy grin, gently touching Gwen's cheek with the back of his finger, "Morgana was _hellbent_ on having Father send me to prison because she couldn't find her wolfskin cloak, so she accused me of taking it because I didn't have one."

Gwen arched her brows, and Arthur chuckled softly as he continued the story. "Father was pissed, and disappointed. I was hardly thirteen, and he demanded I go into the forest alone and hunt down a wolf, and take its fur to the tailors and pay for a cloak to be made with what little money I had."

Gwen bit down a laugh, as she imagined a small, haughty but scrawny blonde prince struggling to mount a stallion, fumbling with a too-big set of bows and arrows as he rode alone into the woods outside the country.

Her face reddened as Arthur raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry - I didn't mean to laugh-"

"No, no, it's okay," he assured, grinning, "If you'll believe it, I spent four hours in that forest, and all I caught was a squirrel."

Gwen smiled and Arthur laced his fingers through hers, beaming proudly. "Anyway. I took that squirrel back into market. Watched all the townspeople stare back at me as I asked for it to be skinned, took its fur to the tailors, paid them all of my five shillings, and returned home with a cloak that would fit a miniature doll."

"And?"

"And Father wouldn't stop laughing at what I'd done, and Morgana was furious and stubborn," Arthur recounted, laughing again, "She found her cloak in the stables. She'd left it there when she went to go horse-riding, but nearly every man and woman in the kingdom still remembers the time I, crown prince of Camelot, requested that a cloak be made from the fur of a regular squirrel."

"I'll make a note to ask for the story when I go into town again," Gwen replied warmly, before she shrugged, "If I don't end up in the dungeons again, that is."

Arthur snickered. "We have a bad habit of throwing you into the dungeons, don't we?"

Gwen stared at him, unimpressed.

Arthur stroked his thumb over the back of her palm. "She won't send you to prison, Guinevere. She's as arrogant as I am, sometimes, but she wouldn't dare. And I know you never could've done such a thing. If she did punish you, I'd argue against it, and she'd never be able to find another woman as loyal as you in the first place. This is nothing more than another ruse to try and win Father's attention, like the trick with the cloak."

He sure was talkative, Gwen thought admiringly. But she was grateful for his loyalty to her.

"So what will I do?" Gwen brought up anxiously, attempting a grin, "Do I just sit here and hide in the cellar here with you until this passes?"

"I mean, no, I was going to go back out there and tell Father to come to his senses," Arthur suggested, rising from the floor and standing up.

He held his hand out to Gwen, who took it and stood up as well, before he brushed her curly hair away from her cheek and lovingly held her jaw, smiling nervously. "But - it couldn't hurt to stay here a little while longer, could it?" He whispered softly.

Gwen studied his eyes, unable to hold back a smile. She placed her arms on his chest, holding his shoulders. "It really couldn't…"

A grin tipped up on the edges of Arthur's mouth, and he tilted Gwen's chin up to gently meet her lips with his, gently cupping her neck, letting them both get lost in the moment.

It was cliche, they both knew, but there was an innocence to moments like these with each other. Their kisses and quite meet-ups were gentle, and pure, and they had little to hide from each other.

They could've stayed like that forever…

The cellar door was wrenched open, and they both screamed at the sudden interruption, holding each other closely in shock.

Merlin blinked. "Calm down, it's just me."

Arthur scowled, heat rising in his cheeks. "You idiot-"

"The guards found the necklace," Merlin answered dismissively, wearing his regular impish grin, "It was under Morgana's pillow. She was lying. You're safe, Gwen!"

Arthur and Gwen both exhaled in relief, before Arthur grabbed the doorknob. "We'll be out in a minute, Merlin," he stated, clearly wanting Merlin out of his presence, "Thank you-"

"Thank you," Gwen answered, grinning appreciatively, holding Arthur's hand.

Merlin faked a smile and nodded, before Arthur shut the door to continue kissing his future queen in the comfort of the cellar's privacy.

An energetic explosion cracked out, and Gwen's eyes fell open as her room was temporarily lit up from the lightning outside.

A storm. A memory.

Gwen's rose from her bed, her spine covered in sweat, and she clutched her face.

Another lost memory resurfacing as a dream.

Even from the start, when they were both young, Arthur had felt close to her. He'd tell her his favorite stories of growing up in the castle, and always looked out for her, and in turn, she'd been his courageous, faithful queen. She'd never been Gwen, the commoner, to him.

He had always referred to her by her full name, Guinevere, a name and a woman who demanded respect, a headstrong and brave queen who was never to be trifled with or underestimated. He had told her she was the only one he could ever love, that she was the only one in the world fit to be his equal, to rule his people.

Gwen pulled her legs out of the bed, grabbed her shawl and went into the throne room, unbothered by the storm outside. There were once two thrones in this hall, a larger one for Arthur, as he was king, and a more elegant one for her that he had given to her as a gift. The smaller throne had been removed. Gwen had been given the title of sole ruler. That meant she was trusted with Arthur's position, and his throne, according to ancient laws.

She brushed a hand over his throne's armchair, and passed through the throne room to the royal counsel chambers beyond. She stopped before the wall, where a large painting of her and her deceased husband was hung.

Another crash of thunder raged outside in the night, followed by blinding flickers of lightning.

King Arthur had been killed three years ago, she remembered, her heart aching. His death marked an era of peace and tranquility in Albion.

Queen Guinevere Pendragon was left to rule over a peaceful, powerful kingdom on her own, but she'd lost her beloved Arthur. She'd lost Merlin. She'd lost her father and brother. She'd lost the lovable knights. She lost her entire family, and she was left with no way to continue Arthur's lineage.

Morgana could come back for all Gwen cared, if it meant she could see Arthur again…

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate it if you'd leave me a review :)
> 
> Thanks again, and have a wonderful day ~
> 
> DBV


End file.
